Molly took a step forward and immediately felt her mouth drop. The room was huge with large windows, letting in light. Some of the windows, she noticed, were equipped with a window seat so that someone could read by the window. There were dark, wood bookcases that almost reached the ceiling. The room had a large area rug with intricate designs of beautiful flowers. There were leather bound books that Molly was sure must be incredibly expressive. There was encyclopedias and medical textbooks and books on chemistry. There was a whole section that was given just for novels and even some in different languages. Molly saw books that she remembered hearing the doctors at the hospital speak of, and even saw some she remember hearing about in her childhood. She was elated to find a beautiful copy of fairytales nestled in-between a foreign novel and a children's book. She pulled it out delicately, afraid of hurting the book. She leafed through the pages remembering reading some of them to the other orphans.

"Do you like it?" Sherlock asked quietly. Molly jumped, forgetting that someone else was in the library with her.

"I love it." She replied, breathlessly.

"What have you got in your hand?"

"Oh, Grimm's Fairytales. When I was younger, I used to read them the other children. A women donated an old copy that was tattered and torn, so we couldn't make all of the stories out. We used to sit there and make up the stories that were missing." Molly felt her eyes getting misty as she thought about the nights when all of the children had gather together. It had been some of the happiest moments of her childhood.

"I don't think I've ever actually read Grimm's Fairytales" Sherlock admitted.

Molly's eye got big. "A whole library full of books and you've never read Grimm's Fairytales?!"

"No, I haven't" Sherlock chuckled.

"You have to read it right now!" Molly said, trying to user Sherlock to a seat.

"Right at this moment?!" Sherlock asked, surprised at Molly's strength as she pushed him over to one of the window seats.

"Yes, and when you're done you have to tell me what you think."

"What if I don't want to read the fairytales?" Sherlock asked as he plopped down in the seat.

"Why wouldn't you want to read the fairytales?"

"Because…because they're all mushy and lovey…and stuff" Sherlock said waving his hands in the air.

"Oh, God" Molly whispered "It's worse than I thought. You have no idea what actual fairytales are like do you?"

"Apparently not." Sherlock teased.

"Little Red Riding Hood gets eaten." Molly said, her face void of any emotion.

"What?"

"In the story; Little Red Riding Hood gets eaten. That's hardly mushy."

"But they all have a mushy happy ending,"

"Not all of them. In 'The Little Mermaid' by Hans Christian Anderson, the mermaid commits suicide."

"Really?"

"Yes. Most of these stories were not made for children."

"Why are they some important to you?"

Molly's face paled a little. "Wh-what do you mean?" Molly stuttered, trying to sound nonchalant. "It's like you've handed me your baby and are asking me to tell you how beautiful they are." Sherlock explained. "Why are these stories so important to you?"

"Well..." Molly started off slowly, avoiding Sherlock's eye "As a child I realized something early on about the stories. The heroes never knew they were going to get a happy ending; as the reader, we of course expected it, but the characters never knew it. But they do everything anyways. They save the princess or outwit evil even though they may die. They do it because it's the right thing to do and right always triumphs over evil…And to see that kind of hope, well…it just made me feel better whenever I got sad. I couldn't help but think that maybe I was a fairytale heroine and I just haven't gotten to my story yet" Molly blushed, staring at the ground. "I know it's silly-"

"I don't think it's silly."

"You don't?" Molly finally looked at Sherlock to see a small smile was spreading across his lips.

"No."

There was a moment of silence as Molly processed what he had said. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"I don't know…just thank you."

Sherlock nodded and the room fell into silence once again. Molly took the chance to look of the window. She could see the gardens in the back of the house and saw a fountain trickling water. She could see what she thought were roses and many other flowers. And behind the garden there was a small hill that seemed to lead to a forest. Right on the outskirts of the forest, Molly could make out a tall oak tree.

Sherlock clearing his throat brought Molly back to the present. "I think it's time we head downstairs. I'm sure my mother will want to show you the gardens." He rose stiffly and began to walk out the door. Molly nodded and followed him out.

Molly wrapped her hand around Sherlock's waist again, and they made their way down the stairs. Right as they reach the bottom of the steps, they heard a knock on the front door. Sherlock and Molly walked to the door to find Mrs. Holmes greeting a blond man and woman.

"Hello Violet." the man greeted.

"John" Sherlock said, his smile growing large. John gave him an equally large smile and walked over to give his friend a gentle hug.

"I heard what happened to you; don't want to damage you" John said, giving Sherlock a pat on the back. "You remember Mary Marston." John said, turning to the blonde women. She flashed a smile and walked through the door.

"You're still putting up with him, Mary?" Sherlock teased.

"I wouldn't have it any other way." Mary smiled. There was a short moment of silence before Mary gave a laugh. "Oh, sod it" she said as she walked over and gave Sherlock a hug.

"So when are you two getting married?" Sherlock asked.

"This bastard hasn't even proposed yet." Mary laughed, pointing to John.

"I'm working on it." John smiled back. It was then that he noticed Molly. "Who are you?"

"I'm Molly Hooper" Molly extended her hand for John to shake. "And..um, I'm here to take care of Sherlock."

"So, you're like her personal nurse or something?" Mary asked.

"Yes, I suppose so."

"That must be horrid" John smiled, missing Sherlock's eye roll. "He's a whiner sometimes."

"Why doesn't everyone come into the sitting room?" Mrs. Holmes interrupted, "I can have Mrs. Hudson make some tea.

"That would be lovely, thank you." Mary smiled as she followed Mrs. Holmes. John and Sherlock made their after them. Molly stayed hesitantly behind, not sure if the offer was for her too.

"Come along Molly, dear" Mrs. Holmes said over her shoulder "You don't want to miss tea."

Molly smiled and followed behind, the reluctance gone.